


You're no Earps

by grumpyphoenix



Series: Brain Salad [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 23:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpyphoenix/pseuds/grumpyphoenix
Summary: Sam and Dean question an older woman about a vampire attack. She has a few surprises up her sleeve.





	You're no Earps

**Author's Note:**

> No prompt, but it's something I've been kicking around for a while. I wrote it like a speed demon in a half hour while getting interrupted by kids - it needs betaing and more thought, but that's what this series is about. :)

The hospital room is bright, sunshine making up for the institutional cold pumped through the vents. A large crystal has been suction-cupped to the window, filtering some of the sun into rainbows, splintering over the patient’s lined face and the head full of bottle-red curls, arranged carefully on the pillow. She’s motionless but for the mechanized breathing.

Dean sucks on his teeth. “I don’t think she’s talking, Sam.”

“Look, this is not my fault. The Sheriff said she was a witness.” Sam’s brow wrinkles as he digs in his coat pocket for his phone.

“I think you boys are confused.” A woman carrying a thermos pushes through their door blockade, stopping to stand in between them and the patient.

She wears sleeplessness on her weathered face and in the precarious upsweep of honey-yellow hair held in a bun only by a pencil. The thermos has decals of bright sunflowers worn at the edges by worried fingers. Countering Dean’s warmest smile with an uplifted eyebrow, she waits until Sam clears his throat and speaks again, shifting from foot to foot.

He holds open his wallet and elbows Dean. “FBI, Ma’am.”

After confiscating both wallets and examining them at the window, she sits. “Agents Russell and Elliot. You can call me June. Grab a chair, please, I won’t be loomed at.”

Sam steals a couple of chairs from the waiting room, and then sit to face her, accepting their wallets back. She watches as they arrange themselves, serenely drinking from the thermos.

“The beauty queen on the bed there is Rose. Rose and I live right on the edge of town in the most beautiful victorian house you’ll ever see. It took us ten years to renovate it. Back then, nobody wanted them. All new construction, that’s the thing. Now, of course, we get offers all the time.”

Dean stares, “Can we skip past the Our Town stuff, June? What did you see?”

June frowns. “Well, that’s rude. I was getting to that.”

“Don’t mind him, June, he was raised in a car. Please, tell us in your own time.” Sam’s warm and earnest smile over Dean's irritated snort thaws the expression on her face.

“As I was saying. We have a reputation among the young for being witches, and the fact that we’ve carefully purchased all the woodland surrounding our property and left it in a pristine state does not help, but…” June shrugs with a smile. “We don’t mind. Not many people bother us, but lately there’s been a group of non local teenagers getting...a little fresher than we’d like.”

She takes a sip while Sam and Dean exchange glances. “Well, they took that nice Avery kid, and Rose wasn’t having it. She got in their face, and so they...they..”

The hard veneer cracks and she turns away, into the sun, worrying at the sunflowers with garden-rough hands.

“There was another person taken,” Sam prompts gently.

She clears her throat and straightens. “Yes. That’s Rowan, my niece. I wouldn’t say  _ taken _ exactly, but she’s missing for certain.”

June scribbles something on a religious pamphlet she’s tossed in the garbage. One among many. Dean takes it from her and looks his question. “This is where they are. I found out that much when we went t… well, that’s where they are.” 

Sam is last out the door, platitudes on his lips, but she shakes her head.

“Sam Winchester. Yes, I know who you are, no hunters worth their salt don’t. Russell and Elliott, my goodness. You’re both pretty, but you’re no Earps.

“If Rose  was awake, she’d kill me for talking to you like this, but she made her own bed by going without me, dammit. Rowan is green, and stupid, and Rose forgot every damned thing we learned. I guess I have to deal with whatever happens to her, but you save Rowan.”

He winces. June nods. “I know. If she’s savable. If she isn’t, you take her head. If she is, you bring her to me. I know there’s a cure, and I know even more than that. I’m willing to make a deal, and what I have, you want. Now get, you have a lot of work.”

Sam gets.


End file.
